


New Life

by The_Magic_Rat



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 18:36:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21378694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Magic_Rat/pseuds/The_Magic_Rat
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley share their first night together.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 70





	New Life

**Author's Note:**

> Getting back into the swing of writing again after a very long bout of depression.

_ **Good Omens – New Life.** _

_ **Author: The Magic Rat  
Rating: PG13  
Pairings: Crowley/Aziraphale  
Warnings: Cuteness.  
Word Count: 2529** _

_ **Website – Ex Libris: http://www.winter-wood.net/ex-libris/index.html  
Live Journal: http://delaese.livejournal.com/profile** _

_ **Disclaimer: All Good Omens characters, places and situations are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, and are used without permission and without intent of plagiarism or profit. Copyright for all stories and original characters is with the author, and may not be published, copied, distributed or archived without the author's prior written consent.** _

_ **Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley share their first night together.** _

_ **Author’s notes: Getting back into the swing of writing again after a very long bout of depression. ** _

~*~*~*~*~*~

The apartment was silent, and lit only by a few sporadic night-lights as they entered. It was a strange sort of silent; that ‘new home’ silent where everything is unfamiliar, and you have to get used to new halls and rooms. Crowley casually tossed his keys into a decorative glass bowl atop an antique console table, both he and Aziraphale feeling a little...uncertain. Was that the word? So much had changed. It would take a while to process.

“Well, we’re home,” said Crowley, and Aziraphale did not miss the odd tone in his voice; hope, worry, and just a hint of desperation. He wanted so much for this to be home, for both of them. Aziraphale was feeling the same emotions but for different reasons. He wanted this to be home for both of them as well; but Crowley could be a bit intense and clingy. He was having mental images of trying to read with Crowley curled up in his lap like a big serpentine cat. 

Actually, that could work.

There was a brief, awkward silence.

“Yes, we are home,” said Aziraphale softly.

Emotions. Angels were not insensitive to them, and Crowley was throwing some very intense ones. They were tangled and mostly unreadable, but fear was topping the list. Why fear? 

“I only have one bed,” Crowley blurted out.

Aziraphale blinked at him. WHY were they both being so awkward with each other? And why would Crowley want to make the detail about the bed.....? 

Oh.

There was a longer awkward silence.

“I can’t think of an appropriate response to that,” Aziraphale admitted.

“Well it’s a very large bed. Large enough for...y’know...two.”

“Is it that really lovely four poster with the red velvet curtains you had in the Victorian era?” Aziraphale inquired politely. “I always loved that bed.”

“It is!” said Crowley brightly. Aziraphale managed to hide a smile as he felt the distinct power of a demonic miracle. Well it probably had not been that bed before, but it was now. That was fine, it really had been a gorgeous bed. 

“I thought you...slept on the walls like a gecko.”

“Well...not all the time.”

They were still standing in the hallway like two freshmen on a hook up. Aziraphale cleared his throat.

“Would you mind if...I set up a library? And a garden?”

“No,” said Crowley. “Set up as big a library as you like. It’s a very large apartment.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Now there’s a dangerous invitation.”

Crowley grinned. Then from the living room Aziraphale heard a sound; the slow dignified chime of a grandfather clock. He followed the sound to an utterly gorgeous clock, decorated with ravens and skulls, all carefully hand carved, but oddly large, as if meant to be seen at a distance.

“It was carved for a silent film that was never made,” said Crowley. “Lon Chaney was supposed to star in it, but he died before production started. All that is left is this clock.”

“It’s lovely,” said Aziraphale. “How did you acquire it?”

Silence. Then; “Wine?”

“Oh for goodness sake, Crowley. And yes, please.”

“Well I had to steal it, they were going to put it in storage to rot and be forgotten. They probably have no idea it’s even gone.”

“That would be sad,” Aziraphale admitted. “It is strikingly beautiful in a dark sort of way.”

Crowley passed Aziraphale a glass of wine, then came to stand very close beside him. “Watch it chime the hour.”

“I thought it just did...?”

“No, you see, that was the whole plot of the movie; the clock would chime five minutes before the hour to give the owner time to reach it before the actual hour.” Crowley spoke close to his angel’s ear, resting one hand on his back. “There were dark and frightful secrets in this clock...”

Aziraphale jumped a little, both when Crowley touched him and the clock chimed the true hour, and felt just a little bit frightened as the three carved ravens turned their heads to look at him, flapping their wings, jeweled eyes glittering. Crowley reached forward to press a foot on each raven, and as he did so, there came a series of clicks. Then one of the skulls opened its mouth to show a ring, a small scroll, and a tiny silver box.

“Behold the elements required to summon the demon, played by Lon Chaney.”

“I’ve seen you summoned with a box of chocolate truffles,” teased Aziraphale.

“Well we all have our peculiarities, you see.” 

Crowley closed the jaws of the skull, then turned to Aziraphale. The emotions were back; complicated and intense. Crowley sipped his wine, clearly worried. What had him in such a knot? He was so damned delicate, in a strange way. And there was a definite scent about him. Musky and dark, and very, very powerful. Aziraphale had smelled it before in centuries past, but never knew the meaning of it.

They were standing awfully close...

Aziraphale sipped his wine, feeling a little nervous himself, unaware he had reached up his free hand to toy with Crowley’s tie. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Not being accountable to anyone anymore. Just... on our own.”

“Rather nice, I think.”

“Yes. Now we can...do as we please.”

Aziraphale felt something silken fall across his hand, and looked down. His eyes became enormous and his heart nearly stopped when he realized he had removed Crowley’s tie from around his neck. 

“Oh good Heavens I had no idea I was even doing that!”

“It’s all right, angel.” Crowley reached up to carefully remove Aziraphale’s bow tie. “Now we’re even.”

There was a faint tremble to Crowley’s voice. Aziraphale set his wine glass and the tie down on a table, feeling his own hands tremble.

“Well, since we’re both suitably undressed, I would like to do something I’ve been wanting to do for a very long time.”

Crowley cocked his head, looking puzzled and curious. Aziraphale stepped closer, and carefully reached up to place both hands on either side of Crowley’s neck. God alive he had the most beautiful neck. Then he closed his eyes and softly kissed it.

Crowley abruptly dropped to his knees. Aziraphale suddenly feared he had hit some sort of demonic off-switch, and managed to catch him before he collapsed entirely to the floor. 

“Crowley...? Crowley you’re trembling all over. Here, let me help you...”

He tried to get Crowley on his feet, but the demon just wasn’t coming up. Finally Aziraphale sat down with him, holding him as Crowley had some sort of fit.

“I’ve got you, you’re all right. I’m here...”

Crowley drew a ragged gasp, sucking in air as if he had been drowning. Oh good grief he’d set him off somehow. How to UN-set him? Aziraphale held him close.

“It’s all right, Crowley. I’m here. I will always be here.”

And that just somehow made everything worse. Crowley was shaking like a leaf and seemed to have lost the ability to hold himself up. Aziraphale slowly lowered him to the carpet, willing an enormous, thick, incredibly comfortable pillow under the both of them. There was something not right with his demon and he needed to look after him. Aziraphale lay down beside him on the pillow and drew him close.

“Crowley I wish you would...and now you’re crying. I wish I knew what you’re so upset about!”

“I’m not upset! I’m emotional!”

All right, clearly before they did anything else, he had to get Crowley settled. Aziraphale held him, humming strange ancient tunes that had brought him comfort in dark times. He had no idea where the songs came from; he just knew they could bring peace. Slowly, Crowley calmed down.

“I waited so long for this,” he said in a small voice. “Now it’s here and you’re holding me and...I don’t know how to react. I don’t know what to expect. And I think if I got what I want I’d probably lose my mind. I wouldn’t know how to handle it.”

“What do you want?” asked Aziraphale.

“Honestly? To have you inside me.”

Now it was Aziraphale’s time to implode. 

“Oh,” he said, eyes large, heart pounding. Then another thought crossed his mind. “Can we even do that?”

“Well we do everything else that mortals do in these bodies, I’m assuming we can make love too.”

“I was just curious about the angel-demon dynamic.” Aziraphale regained his composure and took control of the situation. He knew what to do, but first he had to look after his...boyfriend.

Yes. Boyfriend. 

“Before we do anything we have to get you calm. I’ve never seen you this distraught.”

“You never kissed me before, either.”

“And I’m a bit afraid to do it again.”

Aaaannnnd that just set off another panic attack.

“Crowley do I need to sedate you?”

Crowley couldn’t speak, but the facial expression and shrug indicated it may come to that. Aziraphale sighed and resumed holding him.

“It’s all right. We have all the time in the world. There’s no need to be so overwrought. I’ve got you.”

They lay together on the pillow, touching gently, exchanging soft kisses. Crowley finally calmed down, but wanted to be held close. 

“I’m an awful demon,” he muttered. “I’m supposed to be nasty and cold and heartless. A single kiss from you had me on my knees.”

“You’re perfect. You’re the only demon of your kind. Therefore, you are exactly as you are supposed to be.” Aziraphale shook his head. “You’re shivering. All right. Stay right here.”

Crowley wasn’t sure he had an option; his whole body seemed to have failed him, though he was feeling a bit better. He watched his angel close the doors to the room, then light a fire in the hearth. Soon the room was much more warm, and Aziraphale settled on the huge pillow beside Crowley again, facing him.

“Better?”

Crowley nodded,though he was still shaking. “I don’t know why I’m behaving this way.”

“Well you said it yourself. You’re overwhelmed and emotional. You have always been...sensitive.” Aziraphale touched his face and smiled. “I’ve always loved that about you.”

“You know what I love about you?”

“Tell me.”

“Every damn thing. Your adorable chubby self, your goofiness, your bravery, your willingness to do what’s right even when it’s hard to stomach, the way you enjoy food, and the way you look at me like I’m a steak with all the trimmings.”

“You are lovely. I’ve always loved how lean you are, and how you make certain to dress in a manner that will cause the most impure thoughts imaginable.”

Crowley delicately nipped the end of Aziraphale’s nose. The angel smiled and kissed him.

“Feeling better?”

“Oddly weak. I mean it would be no effort on your part at all to force yourself on me.”

“Goodness, however shall I restrain myself?”

Despite the levity, Aziraphale could tell Crowley was in fact still shaking. His emotional fit had left him quite weak, but he knew his angel would never do anything to harm him. Crowley was not afraid that Aziraphale would overstep his bounds. 

In fact he was rather hoping he would.

Right. Going in...

The kiss was soft and shy, tentative. This was all very new, and they didn’t want to rush things. And the way Crowley just seemed to quietly melt under his hand...it...well the feeling Aziraphale had was awe. Crowley was his best friend and confidant and a thousand other things, but there had been times over the centuries they had been called upon to fight each other, and Aziraphale knew exactly what Crowley was capable of. Leaving aside the fact that he could be a bit of a derp at times, this beautiful being could kill him with the flick of a wrist. To have him turn to silk and warm water beneath his touch was...incredible. Aziraphale lowered his head to kiss the exposed throat again.

“You are so very beautiful, Crowley. I don’t believe I deserve anything so lovely.”

“You deserve more. But I hope you’ll make do with me.”

“I certainly shall.” He carefully removed the ever-present shades, and...stared. The golden serpent eyes were dull and somewhat obscured. “Are you all right?”

“Getting ready for a molt is all.”

“Ah. Well that happens, doesn’t it?” He set aside the glasses, then settled down on the huge pillow beside Crowley. They moved into an embrace, holding each other closely. The fire hissed and crackled quietly, more wood appearing as needed. A silk comforter that matched their giant pillow also appeared, and they cuddled beneath it. Aziraphale smiled as he noticed Crowley blinking drowsily, and kissed him.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you awake.”

“We’re supposed to be having heated screaming sex,” Crowley mumbled drowsily.

“We will. But it’s been a very long day and a long bus ride, and you’re exhausted, poor noodle. You were already a wreck from thinking I was dead. So you sleep. I will be here when you open your eyes.”

“You swear?”

“I swear, Crowley. I will be right here in this spot.”

Crowley made a sleepy noise, then did something to make his clothes go away, leaving him in only his black socks, boxers and undershirt. Well at least he wasn’t naked, that may have been a bit much for a first night. Aziraphale decided to employ a similar method to get into his nightshirt. There. Much better. The only thing was, while Crowley may have been too exhausted to keep his eyes open, Aziraphale was wide awake. Did Crowley have books...?

He did; large beautiful books, some quite old. At least a century. Aziraphale carefully miracled a selection down off the shelf and onto the bed. What was this one? Early Cinema; Space, Frame, Narrative. Well Crowley did love movies, it seemed that if they were going to be a couple, Aziraphale should learn a bit about the subject. How about this book? Early horror movies. Ooh this looked good – The Phantom Carriage...

He read for a couple hours, then put the books back and cuddled close to Crowley. All right, so their first night together had not quite gone as planned. But they were well on their way to being a happy couple. Together they slept on the giant pillow under the quilt, listening to the crackle of the fire, and the occasional chiming of the clock. 

Aziraphale would have been even happier had the first thing he saw upon wakening in the morning not been Crowley’s shed skin on the bed covers.


End file.
